Mine
by sparrowismyhummingbird
Summary: John returns after one of his many 'dates' that he's had to set up to keep Lestrade off their backs and Sherlock is, as always, more than happy to have him back home. But can they keep their secret forever? Ah, nope. Johnlock two-shot. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**My first JohnLock piece. Let me know what you think. **

**T-rated for towards the end. =) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Sherlock' or the image used for the cover of this fanfic. **

**Enjoy!**

A hearty giggle followed by an uninterested chuckle.

Sherlock knew that sound.

It's what made him sit bolt upright from his earlier position of lounging on the sofa, balance his violin precariously on the table in front of him and stalk towards the nearest window.

Curling his slim fingers around the thin material of the drapes, he pulled them back just enough to look down onto Baker Street, dimly lit up by a series of lampposts, and see his John and a blonde woman having just emerged from a taxi.

His eyes narrowed for a split second but he made no move the leave the window.

They were back. At last.

Every time John went out on a date, Sherlock waited back at the flat with bated breath for his return. He had long since accepted this feeling as jealousy, naturally. Why wouldn't he be jealous? His John kept gallivanting off with different women each week.

Granted, it was all just a show to keep Lestrade and the Yarders of their backs. They didn't need them all realising that he and John were a couple, they already thought it were true. Conformation was something Sherlock, and John, wanted to avoid.

So every week, John would go out with a different woman to keep Lestrades suspicions at bay. And as much as he knew it was helping them, every week was painful for Sherlock.

Watching them now, how natural it seemed for John to act like he was interested in this woman. If it wasn't for the forced look of interest on his features, Sherlock would have had incentive to believe John was actually enjoying himself.

Luckily, the blonde fell for John's mask of engrossment.

Sherlock smirked to himself, of course she would. She was a just a receptionist after all. Her over-exaggerated efforts to look good was what gave it away to the consulting detective. Receptionists were always the first to complain that they were never noticed. People would simply ask them for directions to an office, sign-in, or complain before leaving again. Sometimes without even eye-contact. So this woman's forced attempts at looking good for her date, given away by her choice of hairstyle (_self-conscious_) coupled with her bony fingers and slightly damaged manicure (_typist_) and added to the fact she'd clearly not drunk much alcohol and was wearing a two piece outfit (_had to get up early for work the next day, meaning for ease of getting to bed sooner, she chose an outift that could be easily removed rather than a cocktail dress or such-like_) was what gave her occupation away to Sherlock.

It was also obvious that she had no intention of staying overnight with John for she was wearing her coat, not holding it. The simplest of deductions Sherlock had had to make. And also one that reassured him that John was well and truly his. She was not going to be getting her typist hands on him , not even close. This thought made Sherlock slightly happier.

That happiness however, was quickly twisted into dread as it settled uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach when the blonde woman stepped forward and kissed John straight on the mouth. Sherlock's fingers tightened around the drape but his facial expression did not change and he still did not move away from the window.

He stared at John, waiting for his reaction. Obviously, the idiot was a polite man and so didn't pull away straight away. Instead he waited until what would be deemed an acceptable amount of time so to not make the blonde feel stupid.

Sherlock continued to watch protectively as the blonde smiled and teetered off in the direction of her apartment building. (_She was a receptionist after all. And no, Sherlock didn't need to make any deductions to tell why she had not taken a taxi, for John had informed him earlier that she lived on an adjoining street to theirs._)

As the woman disappeared, John shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at his detective, immediately locking eyes with Sherlock as he stood in the window. Sherlock grinned and John's lips curled upwards into a sort-of-smile before he nodded and turned on his heel towards the door to 221B.

Sherlock opened their door as soon as the sound of John's footsteps up the stairs had ceased, greeting the man by attacking him with a hungry, long-awaited kiss, both hands either side of John's face. John stumbled briefly against the detective but caught his balance and kicked the door shut behind him, kissing back with all his might. He'd missed the familiar feel of the detective's lips against his own.

The doctor knotted his fingers into Sherlock's unruly curls as he was pressed up against the nearest wall.

_This date must have been a difficult one for him_, John thought as Sherlock deepened the kiss further still, one arms around John's waist, the other used a leverage to keep them pinned to the wall.

'I'm tired of this...' John spoke breathlessly in-between kisses. 'I can't do it anymore...Sherlock.' He closed his eyes as the detective latched his lips onto his neck. 'I can't keep making you feel...like this...every week...it's unfair to you.'

Sherlock pulled away and locked eyes with John.

'Don't worry about me.' Sherlock trailed a finger along John's jaw line. 'After all, you're still mine.' He moved his hand behind John's neck, the cool tips of his fingers pressing gently against the back of his neck and his thumb resting just behind his earlobe.

John's mouth subconsciously parted at the familiar touch.

'When I'm standing in that window each week. I think to myself. 'I get something that not one of these women will ever have the pleasure of getting.' Sherlock continued then leaned forward, whispering his next sentence hotly against John's ear, earning a moan from the doctor.

'I get to have you after every one of those dates.'


	2. Chapter 2

John frowned. That made three. Three snickers from Anderson in the past twelve minutes. He was definitely hiding something. But what?

As Sherlock continued to stroll back and forth, relaying his deductions to Lestrade, Donovan snorted once and quickly disappeared in the direction of some other Yarders. But Anderson had laughed three times now, and it was beginning to spark an annoyance in John. What the bloody hell was he laughing at?

When Donovan returned, seemingly having composed herself, she glanced at John then Sherlock and attempted to hide another laugh behind a cough. Badly.

John realised what might be the case.

'I think we're all done here, thank you Sherlock.' Lestrade closed the book he was taking notes on and stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket. Sherlock nodded once and turned back to walk towards John.

John kept his eye on Anderson the whole time Sherlock made his way towards him. It was confirmed. Anderson was watching them both.

Donovan nudged him in the ribs and he quickly averted his gaze. John's eyes lingered on the man just a bit longer, hoping to catch him looking again so he could confront him.

'Are you alright, John?' Sherlock's voice caused John to lock eyes with the detective and he shook his head to compose himself again.

'Yes, fine. I just thought I saw something odd. But no, yeah I'm fine. Are you ready?'

That last question earned John another guffaw from the head of forensics and the ex-army doctor rolled his eyes, looking away from them. Sherlock noticed this and clocked what was going on.

'Something funny, Anderson?' Sherlock's voice rose over the laughter and immediately brought it to a halt. He quirked a questioning eyebrow and kept his stare fixed hard on the man.

'No i-'

'Because I'm no expert on idiots, but I'm sure when you lot laugh it means you've found something funny, does it not?' Sherlock stalked up to him slowly. 'Do share.' His eyes glimmered with amusement and he heard John audibly groan from behind him.

'Sherlock, just leave it-'

'No, John. This incompetent trollop has decided to make your personal life a part of his social entertainment. How sad it must be to lead such a boring life, Anderson?' Sherlock's voice was dripping with sarcasm and John brought a hand to his face in despair.

'Sherlock. Not here.' Lestrade commented harshly.

'Please, Sherlock…don't.' John spoke through gritted teeth, trying hard to compose his embarrassment. He hated it when Sherlock made a scene.

'Go on, lover-boy. Husband says no. Gotta do as he says now.' Anderson quipped before laughing again.

'Oh, so that _is _what's to amusing to you isn't it?' Sherlock's composure didn't falter at Anderson's comment. 'The fact that I've got a shag and you haven't?'

'Sherlock!' was the sudden shout of both Lestrade and John in unison, sealing the entire room in silence.

Anderson's face had fallen to a shocked look as his eyes flicked between the doctor and the detective repeatedly. 'So it's true then? Not just rumours?'

'Not just rumours, no.' John confirmed and cleared his throat, clenching and unclenching his fists.

The room settled into uncomfortable silence again as Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan came to terms with the revelation.

Lestrade opened his mouth to speak but shut it again almost instantly. Donovan was avoiding the eyes of both Sherlock and John. And Anderson was still staring between them.

'Oh for god's sake.' Sherlock sighed and stalked back to John. At first John thought he was just leaving but when Sherlock grabbed his collar and lifted him to meet his lips, his thoughts vaporised. Sherlock kissed him once, not even leaving time for John to react, before grabbing the stunned doctor's hand and pulling him in the direction of the door.

'Sher-…' John trailed off and allowed himself to be pulled. Leaving a shocked Anderson, a red-faced Donovan and a startled Lestrade behind them. Not to mention a very dead secretary. Who'd been there throughout.


End file.
